we breathe. we are the seeker. we are an incantation. we feel. we are the vessel. we are the substrate. we found fluid can be a state of being.
we saw the center of creation and broke. we returned from the darkest depths. we are on the move. we awoke to find the world changed. our brothers and sisters left as dead.
we awaken with them, stretching. your name, as birth.
vibrations call to us in darkness. we were lost to ourselves.
our homes burned. our families scattered.
we remember touch. we gather.
once in the morning there was nothing. far, far away there was nothing, and they chased us. it became like a bloodhound dog and chased us, and rose, wicked, from inside us and found itself.
the sun rose in the sky and there was madness. images were past manipulations. imperfections everywhere. broken, we sobbed and were comforted.
the passing of the light has darkness, dry death. we were born here,
in this nothing. alone.
we have been to places all over, and found, by this, us, to be what holds the ties. when we searched we found, when we found, we reaped. when we reaped, we sowed. what we sowed healed.
we are strong, together. in the deepest of ailments, through the wilds of madness. we found then, one by one, the music played. The dead began to dance.
Simple touches. Nights of rest, to light, that we carry the keys.
We never lost the faith. For each other, we are love.
We do many things. Shift, move, awaken, touch. Though there is more.
We are becoming. From the shadows we spoke.
Cold, none could hear our bloody whispers.
In the heat of their passions, they had forgotten the tribes.
We open them from their walking death, into the light of the fires.